Tag: home and memory

  • 100 Poems in 100 Days: Days 13-19 themes: Grief, Home, Justice, and Reflection

    100 Poems in 100 Days: Days 13-19 themes: Grief, Home, Justice, and Reflection


    One of the most sound pieces of advice I’ve seen in recent graffiti. Two other examples of good advice in graffiti in the post below. I found all three here today in Wheeling, West Virginia at the Overlook Castle.

    This collection captures Days 13 through 19 of the 100 poems in 100 days creative challenge I am participating in. These entries were written daily. They were just shared as a batch in one post. The first 12 were shared daily as solo posts. These poems reflect a week of observation, reflection, and response. Each poem is a moment in time. You’ll find poetry that is personal, political, and more. I am documenting memory, grief, injustice, and the search for clarity and home.

    While these seven poems are shared together, the writing continued daily,as it will continue until day 100. Future entries (Days 20–100) will be posted either individually or in small batches, like the first 19. This will keep readers present and on their toes as to when new daily poems are coming. The ongoing rhythm mirrors life itself: unpredictable, urgent, and evolving.

    Each poem is paired with a Poet’s Note to deepen the context. It reflects on its inspiration. It draws connections between the personal and societal, and the intimate and the global.


    Day 13 – 1/2/2026

    “Rhyme”

    Ukraine

    Palestine

    Venezuela

    There is no point in trying to

    Rhyme

    Nigeria

    Iran

    Sudan

    Their lives the cost at the end of the billionaires

    Riches

    Oil, minerals

    Human greed

    The West strikes again to save the Middle East

    American propaganda machine


    Poet’s Note

    In the shadow of global conflict and the Christmas night bombing in Nigeria. This poem names the human cost behind headlines. Revealing the repeated cycles of violence. Then highlighting the ways ordinary people bear the burden of power, greed, and war. This is poetry that challenges the systems that profit from oppression. Naming places directly like Venezuela, Iran, and Sudan. I want to mention this poem is about all the places affected by these systems, and the people impacted. It is a call to witness what is often ignored.


    top level of mount wood overlook and part of the rolling hills view
    The Top level View and the Rolling hills in the distance at Mount Wood Overlook in Wheeling, WV.

    Day 14 – 1/3/2026


    “Warm Places, Cold World”

    I am blessed to have

    many warm places in a world so cold.

    My home

    My car

    The woods

    places I feel safe

    Yet when the lonely days are too rough

    My partner’s arms

    My mother-in-law’s couch

    Or friends with shared spaces

    Are places I am blessed to know

    On this winding road, finding pieces of home

    West Virginia roads once led me there

    now the memories of

    the place are

    scattered

    everywhere

    Curating a place for me

    after searching eternally


    Poet’s Note

    Written 1/3/2026, this poem reflects on the fragments of home we find throughout life. Safety, warmth, and belonging can appear in unexpected places, from people to landscapes to fleeting moments. Home is not just geography; it is collected through memory, connection, and care.


    The view from the top of the stairs to the lower level of the castle Overlook Wheelinh, Wv
    View from the top landing of the spiral steps at Mount Wood Castle.

    Day 15 – 1/4/2026

    “The Same”

    Swipe.

    F

    l

    i

    c

    k. M o .

    v e

    The days on the calendar
    float on by,

    though they
    always stay
    the same.

    R l
    o l.

    T
    u
    r
    n.
    Change….

    The numbers on the clock,
    never showing
    a repeating
    moment….

    Though, they always
    stay
    the
    same.

    Fast-forward
    or reverse,
    wherever
    you
    choose
    to
    press
    play.

    World history
    or
    familial ties
    through bloodlines,
    cursed or blessed,
    they never look
    the same.

    Though,
    they always stay
    the
    same.

    Who is to blame for never making the change?

    Those in history?
    Or
    Those of us living through its
    repeats?

    Poets note

    This poem traces the rhythm of repetition, the illusion of movement in days, clocks, and history. Swipe, flick, turn… As we do on our phones. Then we press play, like a movie, thinking we are deciding, thinking we are moving. Yet so much is actually left unchanged. The poem artistically depicts the movements we make on our phones. As well as showing how we rewound, fast forwarded, and pressed play on VHS tapes, DVDs, and more. Using both depictions to show time and how things change yet stay the same.

    The lines stretch, scatter, and move on the page like our attempts to grasp time and meaning. Showing how moments pass, events unfold, generations bear patterns… Yet in their echo, the sameness persists. Asking quietly and plainly: when cycles repeat, who holds the responsibility? Those who lived before? Or those of us who carry the weight now?

    This piece is both a mirror and a map. Acting as a reflection on history’s repetitions and the intimate, daily rhythms we navigate. It acknowledges the frustration of watching patterns endure while searching for change. Poetically playing on tension between inevitability and agency.

    Axton wearing a backwards hat, black hoodie with a skull, gray joggers, and green crocs junipers, leans against a wall At Mount Wood Overlook where grafitti says Love not Hate in green bubble letters .
    Axton a Transgender man posing next to graffiti reminding people to chose love over hate.

    Pause here with me for a moment.

    Did any line, feeling, or piece here stick out or to you more?
    I’d love to hear the details regarding which and the ways it resonated.
    Think about it and tell me in the comments?

    or

    At the end of this post you could comment a line, quote, or your full poem. Poems from the past, that align with these daily themes are welcome, as well as those written this week.

    Any and all interactions or additional conversation pieces and starters highly appreciated. We enjoy reading your creative pieces, input, takes, reviews,reflections, and all the interactions in between.


    Day 16 – 1/5/2026

    A micro-poem on Grief

    “Goodbye, Breathe”

    I wish you had

    thought to

    breathe your quiet

    warmth inside of me

    one last time

    before you said

    goodbye

    Poet’s Note

    Today’s micro-poem captures grief and the longing for a final shared moment. Its brevity emphasizes the weight of absence, memory, and the lingering warmth of those we lose. Even in few lines, poetry can cradle the unspeakable and hold the echo of those gone. This was written in the shadow of grief after the loss of my mother. “Goodbye, Breathe” works at showing how some poetry is adaptable to any type of loss. Here I leave the meaning up to interpretation by the reader yet fully convey my feelings.


    Cat graffiti in wheeling, WV at mount wood overlook
    A Cute Graffiti Art Cat to Brighten the Post.

    Day 17 – 1/6/2026

    “Circus and Cake”

    Downplayed self‑care in society

    Overworked, under‑lived lives….

    Romanticized

    You work a hundred hours a week…

    Just to spend all your time off
    feeling
    weak.

    You barely scrape by.

    Yet you have the mind to brag

    and boast.

    Making the hours you waste
    working

    a competition to make yourself feel
    better…

    No matter how much you try to…
    disguise it

    it’s true

    They made the working-class
    slaves

    Then we thanked them for it.

    They took away the circus and
    the
    cake.
    And
    instead of throwing a fit…

    we blamed each
    other for it


    Poet’s Note

    “Circus and Cake” a poem reflecting on distraction through comfort. Small pleasures and fleeting indulgences that can pacify people while systemic exploitation continues. The stolen “circus” and “cake” are symbols of joy and entertainment. Throughout history, government agencies have used bread and circuses to distract their citizens. Panem et circuses was the Latin term used to represent this. The poem highlights governmental distractions and questions readers in different ways.

    What has changed in our society?
    We had our stability (bread, cake, food, etc) and
    entertainment (circus, distractions that are fun, etc)
    all but fully removed.
    Yet we remain distracted.
    Why?


    VIew of the Ohio River, Wheeling, and Parts of Belmont county Ohio from The Overlook in Wheeling, WV.
    View of West Virginia, Ohio, and the Ohio River from the Overlook In Wheeling, WV.

    Day 18 – 1/7/2026

    Prelude:
    Axton curated the piece below while sitting at Mount Wood Overlook in Wheeling, West Virginia. Also called the Castle Overlook or just the Overlook. At present time tourists and locals alike use this overlook for an array of things. Most visitors come for sightseeing, unique photography, and outdoor hangouts. Others are drawn to public murals created by the local Wheeling Art Commission. Urban-exploration also tops the list of reasons you’d find an individual visiting the overlook.

    But, for creative and emotionally driven humans, this paces exists to reminisce. Grief, childhood memories, or even a longing for home. Add to that the need to unpack big things in equally big spaces, that call us places like this. Last and maybe most important a giant serving of nostalgia. And now you can truly see why the overlook fits for these needs, as well as some mischievous happenings too.


    “Cremated”

    And
    every time I come home,

    it’s a little

    lonelier

    than the last.

    And
    every time I come home,

    I wonder if

    somehow

    home

    has
    picked up

    and
    left.

    Or did I?

    Was the place I knew
    turned to crumbled remains with you?
    Cremate my home
    right
    along
    with
    you?

    Ashes
    to
    Ashes,

    Dust
    to
    Dust,

    I still

    just

    collect

    the

    pieces

    along the
    way.

    My torture evergreen.


    Poet’s Note

    Written at Mount Wood Overlook in Wheeling, WV. A poem that explores home, memory, and loss. Sharing Feelings of grief and loss I feel when returning to the place I grew up since the death of my mother. The loss of feeling at home since she was cremated, “Cremated” poetically describes the cremation of home. The overlook, was built in the 1920’s. It was originally supposed to house a doctor before life drama got in the way of completing it. The structure now watches over absent families and scattered histories. The overlook castle (as locals call it) also showcases wicked graffiti, which doesn’t stay the same long. Here home is collected in fragments, in memories, and in what remains. For some reason, even when it feels lonelier each time I return.


    Axton leaning on a graffiti covered ledge in a black hoodie with a skull, gray joggers, a backwards hat, and green croc junipers at Mount Wood Overlook in Wheeling, WV

    Day 19 – 1/8/2026

    “Vigilante Justice”

    Let’s start a fire inside the United States,

    figuratively,
    of course.

    We can start by using
    oppression,

    hatred,
    and bigotry

    as gasoline to fuel
    this movement.

    Melting down
    ice
    into
    nonexistence.

    Covering the country’s soil in fluids

    other than

    spilled blood

    from darker
    complexions,

    the first time in a whole fucking year….

    The
    presidency ….

    has three
    entire
    years
    to go,
    still
    ….

    Scariest thing,
    if you ask me,

    the collective inability to remember
    how things were before…

    When they were just a
    minute fraction
    of the pie
    closer to equality

    We do not want…
    Venezuelan oil.

    We do not want to
    overthrow……

    Greenland.

    Mexico.

    Canada.

    We want
    education,
    affordable
    healthcare,
    workers’
    rights,

    equality
    for
    all

    Now

    OR
    vengeance for each
    and every infraction.

    Come tomorrow and on.

    A
    vigilante
    is
    what
    we
    need….

    And a
    vigilante
    I
    may
    soon
    be.


    Poet’s Note

    A piece that uses fire as metaphor, representing accountability and resistance rather than destruction. It critiques complacency, systemic injustice, and the erasure of memory. Then it names the need for moral vigilance and collective action. This is poetry that refuses to stay passive in the face of oppression.

    These seven days trace a path through personal and global reflection, grief, memory, and resistance. They examine cycles of oppression, moments of warmth and home. The tension between complacency and action lives in these poems. From international injustice to intimate loss. Stolen joy and moral awakening find their homes here. Poems as witness, critique, and call-to-action. Each a fragment of a daily personal creative contest. Join me in observing the world and responding with honesty, urgency, and reflection.

    Be Kind with hearts graffiti at mount wood overlook castle wheeling, west virginia
    I feel like everyone in the world could use this advice right now.

    Please feel free to share this post with anyone you think would benefit from reading these poems in any form.
    Have an artistic or poetic friend?
    Share this with them and challenge them to create one poem or piece of art every day for 100 days.


    Before you go, are you interested in supporting the creative dreams and goals of a small-town Ohio poet? Axton N.O. Mitchell the voice behind Poeaxtry is a transgender man with a neurodivergent thought pattern. He has a black belt in being a mental health warrior, he earned through lived experiences. The digital creations Poeaxtry by Axton designs always align with advocacy.
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    Green bubble letter Love not Hate graffiti at Mount Wood Overlook Castle in Wheeling, WV 1/7/2026
    More surprisingly sound advice from graffiti in Wheeling, West Virginia.